You're a regular Heinz fifty-seven.

It's funny, the roles you play in different teams.

For White Eagles, I'm a coach, and somewhat of a leader.
For Team Gigantic, one of a few leaders, and I'm pretty loud.
For The Beans, I'm somewhat reserved, and I keep quieter than usual (especially when focused).
For Fury, I'm the young, energetic, positive, but not relatively skillful player.

The baseline of my temperament remains the same: I am generally quiet when I am focused, non-confrontational, supportive, and understanding. I find it odd how who you surround yourself with affects who you are, and even how you play.

Generally, my play style is to defend deep, and offensively run hard, get open, and try to catch the opponent on the break. I am a counter-attacker. I try to play like this for Fury, but with more defending, and much more play making (due to the small gym size, opponents get back quickly). With Team Gigantic, I play like this, but with a lot of counter-attacking. Perhaps it has something to do with field size, but I do prefer the Coverall for my attacks. With the Eagles, I try a lot more linking up and third-man running type play, because I feel we need that sort of support in the midfield. For The Beans, counter-attacking is difficult in the gyms, like with Fury, so I try a lot more play making.

Maybe it's not the team, but perhaps field size? Most likely both - I recall playing as a central defender for Eagles outdoor, and a counter-attacking striker for Team Gigantic outdoor.

At any rate, my conundrum still continues about where my best position is. Some say striker, others say attacking or defending midfield. Others say second striker, others say on the wing. Who knows.

Fury scraped a win tonight, with a scoreline of 5-4 against a really good team of fit, young, physical, skillful players. I scored our first by managing to get behind their defense unnoticed to slide the ball in the net, but I was at fault for one of their goals, and partially at fault for one of our own (the ref missed a call, everybody stopped, the ball was taken from me). I did help set up a couple others, though, and I think I learned a lot that game about defending, particularily against strong players with good moves.

Jahan, our team's captain, coach, and league manager, invited me to play at an indoor field close to my own area of the city country, called Skylight. I did a bit of schedule research, and that the team is named AFC Soccer, and resides in the second division, which, oddly enough, is the top division for that establishment. I like the name. It is slightly redundant, but a good joke (Athletic/Football Club Soccer) if it was meant to be that. I'm not sure if he invited me out because he figures I need practice, or if he thinks I can help his team out (in an 'important' game). Either way, I'm glad to do it.

The Skylight amidst a Manitoba winter, followed by the interior. I was surprised when I saw that it actually had a skylight. I'm not sure what I was expecting.

The unfortunate side of it all is that I commited to both a practice with Fury Wednesday and the game Friday before realizing I have two games of my own on those nights - Eagles and Team Gigantic respectively. I believe that they don't overlap, though, but it's going to be a tiring week:

Tuesday: Beans' game, possible Wannabees' game.
Wednesday: Practice and Eagle's game.
Thursday: An exam.
Friday: Jahan's team's game, Team Gigantic game

Five to six possible games in four nights will have me drained. I would have an exam Tuesday as well, but the class is honestly a write-off. It was a tough school term for me, I had to sort a lot of things out with myself. It started nice and strong, but things just piled on. However, I'm doing pretty well now. I promise to myself that I will do my very best next term. I am setting a standard of every course being at least a B, and at least three having As.

In other news, I was refered to an excellent sounding job from Cara, one of the best female soccer players I know. The job is as a full-time soccer camp instructor for kids. I will most definitely want that job, because I love soccer, I handle and can put up with kids well, and will get a ton of physical activity out of it. Somebody please remind me - I'm bound to forget. Oddly enough, Carissa mentioned to me today that Stephen wanted to coach a youth team with me next summer. I'm excited for that as well. And apparently, Carissa is excited to leap right back into collecting Pokemon cards, bless her heart for being so strange.

I also learned from Cara and her friend the directions to Skylight, which were drewn up haphazardly at best. I did enjoy the map though, with it's pink highlighter tone and "choo choo" denoting a train on the nearby tracks adding a certain je ne sais quoi. After speaking with them during my job as a dodgeball referee, my dad and I drove out to where the Skylight is. Cara's opinion of the place is that it is dumpy, but I found the hobbit-esque exterior and claustrophobic interior to my taste, until I heard the buzzer for half-time - which was quite literally taken right out of an old house alarm system. At that point, like a quirky girlfriend who you just found out likes to bite, cute turns to strange, but the object of affection in question still remains (somewhat/how) charming.

Also, you may have noticed that I have adopted proper apostrophe usage. That's not to say I did not know it before, but now I just feel the need to be proper and correct. It still might take a while to ignore the fact that (for example) "Greg's cold" could refer to the fact that I am cold (or heartless), or it could be my sickness, which is a cold. I suppose contextualization matters. Maybe I'm searching for grammatical trouble here, but in all actuality, seeing the apostrophe really makes me think of contractions as opposed to possession. If you haven't already noticed, I am I big fan of contractions. Perhaps it's the English in me.

Speaking of, I delved into my family's lineage today. As it turns out, I'm a quarter each of English, Ukrainian, and German, but eighths of Welsh and Austrian. This is slightly different from my original suspicion that the shared quarter was English and Welsh, as opposed to Welsh and Austrian. Just a little curio for you. It also explains today's blog title, which, if you haven't noticed, is something weird or funny normally said to me recently. I had no idea when my dad called me this, but it makes a fine title.

As well, I'm starting a new tag called "strange ideas". For these "strange ideas", I'll deliver a short, concise idea of mine that usually results from a shower think-fest, looking out a car window for too long, or long chain of thought.

Today's strange idea is that I ought to improve my peripheral awareness. To do this, I am going to construct an exercise involving throwing a ball and catching it without really looking directly at it. Who knows, maybe it could help.

Finally, Derek, your icey street put my car out of commission for a few days. On the upshot, I'm finally getting my alignment fixed. Thanks?

Here is where I speak of lack of substance

I had one of my shower time discoveries again. I realized that this blog is just game after game of what happened. I really need to spice it up, and I don't mean in the usual feedbag or Stadtler & Waldorf style, as if those added anything.

I mean, sure, you get an opinion of the match, but it hardly helps if you don't see the match in the first place. What I need is, I think, more of an aim (and more of a drive to pursue it), and more general substance. I just wonder what to add into this.

Perhaps we should look back at my goals. They were not unrealistic, but definitely odd - how was I supposed to find a new team every year, a division above the last (aside from constant promotion)? I'm going to cut to the chase and aim for the premier division next summer, and to do that, I'll need to work fairly hard. Turns out the team I had tried out for last season ended up second in the table, and reached the quarter finals in the leagues cup competition. I really should've stayed on with them.

In other news, it would seem we have somebody with an even crazier goal than mine. Arton Baleci, the man behind The Beautiful Aim, is trying to turn himself into a premiership player in just a year. I have faith in him, I suppose, though it is a hard task.



This man, Robin van Persie, sunk Chelsea with two goals today. It's no wonder, he's got an incredible shot. Maybe I should practice turns to become as good as he is with them.

Maybe I should give David Moyes of Everton a call, I hear they're low on strikers - they have one right now, and he is my age.

Tonight, I play with Fury. That should be fun, I always learn from those guys.

Frumpy... You know, like cottage cheese bum

Today's game with the Eagles was a bit of a massacre. We played a team that statistics inferred that we'd have a good chance against, but we were pretty mediocre. They had only a couple subs, but a combination of their ball skill, smart play, and ability to beat our men, as well as our lack of the aforementioned left us disappointed in the end. The score was 7-4.

Personally, I could not shoot on target to save my life. Four fairly good chances came and went, including on in the last second that involved my setting myself up for a volley a second before time. The kick was going to be a second late if it came. I held back, in spite of frustration.

And off course, this was the first game in half a year that my parents came to watch.

I did almost get a diving header off, though. I was inches away. It would have been really nice, I think, but it was not to be.

There's not much else to say about that, I tried pretty hard and failed pretty hard, with my team. If only they were not as hasty as they are in a rush to power, we really need to work on the basics. Controlling, conditioning, and jockeying, specifically... All of that 'easy' stuff.

Nobody goes on the holiday make-up days.

Finally, classes are done.

As if that mattered, though, I hardly went. What a bad idea that was. Again.

I had one of those great work-and-play nights last night again, and I played with the Beans. I scored the first goal against the top team, and had hoped to hold out for the game like that. We didn't, and in spite of some good goaltending from one of our girls, we got routed 7-1.

Sometimes, that team really frustrates me. I particular, there's one guy who is just the biggest asshole to everybody. He pushed a girl pretty blatantly, and yelled at everybody on our own team. He was the same guy who hit my hand when I went to shake his hand last game.

I went in goal for the second half, and he just sorta stood upfield and yelled for the ball. I told him to make a run, and he yelled something back about not knowing where to go. I told him anywhere would be fine, so long as he moved. He continued to give lip, unfortunately.

How can some people be such big assholes? It eludes me completely.

Today, I managed to work on some ball control and left footed stuff by playing a really small ball against the couches. My left looks a little better.

There is nothing cool about having a tantrum.

What a strange last week or so I've had.

At any rate, we had a game tonight. I shall keep this short and sweet.

We faced a familiar foe tonight, the Kosmos. We have played this team many a time, and the only win we've ever notched against them was in the outdoor final a year and a bit ago.

These guys always come out with good speed and they always mark us incredibly tightly. Our game takes time to get momentum from the back, so this disrupts us very much. They have good players all over the pitch, but we do too. Also, most of us aren't nearly as in shape as they are. Needless to say, we lost 3-0.

I did have some good moves though. One was a roulette away from a couple people, another was a neat little stepover turn. I also sombrero'd a guy, then got taken down in the penalty box after I had beaten everybody. I would assume that the ref forgot he had a whistle for that one, it was about as blatant as it gets. At one point, I recieved the ball in our own end, and they were marking us tightly. I felt the pressure, beat a man, then delivered a pass through some guy's legs. He didn't expect it at all, and I think he actually froze in shock when it happened.

These guys really took the game to us though. Even their girls used their arms like no other. The calls did not go our way, either, and often, the ref would forget to indicate which team the kick was to be taken by. I really need to start using my arms, I'm like a T-rex out there.

"Hey guys, how's it going?"

At least I don't run like one.

It's Tuna Time

Thanks to a couple players on our team, tonight's game was a disaster. We switched over to a 2-2-1, where I played midfield, and it went well (for the first half). I put one in and assisted another, and we were only trailing by one by the break.

My goal was pretty nice, I volleyed a cross and just missed, hitting the top corner. The ball bounced back, and when the goalie was complaining to his team, I just left-footed it into the net with another (this time strange) volley. Probably one of the best things my left foot has ever done for me.

I almost had one early in the game, too, when I broke free down the side. The goalie came out, and I beat him, and I was going to side foot it into the net. It's a bit of a shame that he (literally) tackled me, and only got a foul called for it. When I went to take it quick, the idiots from the other team rolled it away from me.

My assist was created from a cross that I headed down for a teammate. Decent work, from everybody involved.

At half time, a couple of the notorious assholes felt like ruining the lines we had by taking the whiteboard, erasing various people, putting others on, and all sorts of stuff like that. I'm fine with changing plans, but when you have just two minutes and you are not informing half of the team, it becomes a problem. When one guy who has not at all been to practices (and very few of our first three games) and who has no coaching experience decides to take things into his own hands, things are obviously going to go awry. To top if off, there was another fellow on my team who spoke negatively of everything, including the system, which I thought was well thought out. It was not my idea per se, but it was what I had in mind. Needless to say, things fell apart in the second half. The team was everywhere -when I was supposed to play midfield, I got caught on defense in a two on one. Fortunately, I hardly cut off the first pass using my little leg sweep from behind maneuver.When I say barely, though, I mean, I didn't see it when I got it (it was that far away and behind me), and that I had just finished the motion when it hit my leg. I think I deserve a (self-produced) pat on the back for that one.

The worst part about being critical of your own team, though, is when you are a terrible player yourself.

I don't often partake in negativity, but I think I am just going to let him have it next time. No, I will not pass to you when you are quite well covered and call me a ball hog. Also, I am not going to shoot from half, you moron. Christ, the more I talk about it, the more I believe that this guy needs to get off the bloody team. Actually, both of the aforementioned guys need to leave. One's an asshole, and one's a sarcastic cynic - both of them have personalities that will not get you anywhere in soccer. Of course, I'm only saying that because I don't like them. Sure, if they were decent, maybe they could be somewhere.

At the end of the game, there was a strange mood in our locker room. Everybody was quiet, I was the only one speaking, so I had to lighten the mood with jokes. A couple others joined in, but it was generally unavoidable. Sure, the team we were up against was relegated from a league above us, but I suppose the fact that they had no wins was bothering the guys.

It's like buying a girl a fruit

You realize at times you have a good job when you're doing exactly what you want to do later in life, and getting paid for it. I played two games tonight while reffing, due to one team being my team and another being a team short of players (the Wannabees, as usual).

The Beans played the third place team, the Flood Minotaurs at eight. We ended up losing 4-3, but we played well. I felt I had a great game, including a fantastic goal line clearance, kind of like Andrea Dossena did against Rangers. Also worth noting was that a really cute girl that plays with the Flood Minotaurs was not there, unfortunately.

It was pretty nice, I was on the ground and I had a kick at it just before one of their players got a foot on it. Also worth noting was our goalies efforts today, including a Robert Enke-esque moment.

At another point, a guy told me to bring it on, so I did. I beat him with my semi-trademark back heel wall pass, ran down the line, beating another guy in the process, and found my teammate (who scored). Shows him to tell me to bring it on.

I found that my team has a couple people with bad tempers today. One guy in particular pretty much slapped my hand off when I went to shake his hand after the game, and he complained about a call of mine. Not like I can call it any other way, can I? Another gal complained to me about one of our weaker players while on the bench, and I get where she's coming from, but really, what can you do about it?

The game with the Wannabees was against the second place team, so you can imagine how that went. At half, it was 7-0, so I asked the other team if we could switch it up for some fun. They did, and fun was had, so it seemed. The Wannabees also asked if they could join my team, and I said I'd ask, but as far as the answer goes, it's probably going to be a no, as our team already is full. The league had assigned some of the registration stragglers to play with them, but it wasn't to be, most likely because they are somewhat frustrating to play with for most people serious about soccer. I don't know what will happen with them. I was changing and had my shirt off when she asked, and I didn't really hear her properly, so when I answered, I just sort of guessed what she had said, and it lead to myself saying the same things over again, because she didn't really walk away. Or maybe she was admiring my chest hairs.

You silently called my sister a whore, no?

Guess that character. Answer near end of entry.

Jesus, what a weekend. I found that sleep is VERY important the night before a game. Even five hours will make you feel like you're dragging a lead moose around. I played midfield, switching off with Jay, and I also found that our team focuses very much on the midfield. in fact, almost every attack ends up going through our midfield at one point or another.

If you know me, you may (or most likely not, unless we've talked indoor strategy) know that I am a huge advocate of the 2-2-1 formation in indoor soccer. Very basically, this is because you form a good box for the short pass, you get more cover on defense, and most importantly, there is no choke point that is apparent in the 2-1-2. In essence, you get more players involved in all aspects of play with greater ease.

Quite often, our midfielders have to dribble quite a lot before releasing the ball - this is a combination of our huge gap between strikers and defenders that our mid is expected to cover, the fact that our stronger players are in the midfield, and we are very much a counter attacking team. This is fine, for Jay. It suits his style perfectly. It suits mine as well, but only to a point - I merely consider myself one with good hustle on the counterattack. However, I think my best asset (offensively) is my vision and movement - the ability pass into ideal areas, and to be in good spots for passes by passing and moving "strategically"*. However, I enjoy having the play generally come through me quite often, as more ball time requires you to get better on the ball, which I am most likely doing.

An example of X's 2-2-1 dominating the O's Cancer formation †

I'm sorry about that last paragraph being so ego-centric, but I would assume that if that bothered you, you would not at all be looking at my blog, which at times is a hub for ego-centrism.

However, I think I'm onto something about the newly-developed Cancer formation. Also, please note that Cancer is a crab as opposed to a lobster, as shown in the image. I don't need to be spreading false information now, do I?

Really though, think of it. This formation has two attackers playing off each other, a sweeper, as the last man back, then a stopper and midfielder. You may say it's a lot of things, for example, "like a 2-1-2" or "bad", but I think it gives you more length at the sacrifice of width in defense. It could work, I believe. Heck, you could even name a run up from the defender 'the lobster tail attack'. It's got everything it requires - a thought, a name and a diagram.‡

At any rate, we lost the game 4-1.

Today was strange. Practice was canceled, so we went to the Toad and talked strategy. I also had a Toad burger, which, if you recall, was on the feedbag at one point. Speaking of...

Today on Greg's Feedbag:

Casa Burrito's "Smokey flank steak burrito".

This new hot spot for a quick fix of Mexican food is fantastic. Sure, I'm pals with the owner, but he has really done well for himself in this case, this restaurant is fantastic. It combines the laid back atmosphere of university with the busyness of downtown and strange naming and aesthetic value of Starbucks.

The burrito itself is made fresh for you, using very few if any processed elements. It is also delicious, moderately inexpensive, filling, simple, and fast. Very little can be said about it negatively, other than the experience of eating it is over all too quickly. Winnipeg has a new pinnacle for Mexican cuisine. 4.5/5 gullets satisfied.

After talking strategy, I arranged to hang out with my good friend Keeley. Unfortunately, my bloody car was stolen (by a tow truck). Thankfully, my dad bailed me out of the jam I was in. The character shown at the beginning of the blog is Boris Badenov of The Rocky and Bullwinkle show. I chose him for a couple reasons. First, my car is named Boris. Second, I felt like being a rascal, so I went into the Safeway where I parked, and walked around for five minutes, with the purpose of looking shifty and nervous. Turns out what I had set out to do originally had worked, I attracted a large, crew-cut security oaf. I did not feel like going overboard and smashing jam jars, so I turned it into a war of attrition. I picked up a National Geographic about oddities of the world as my weapon of choice. His was a novel. I buried my head into my book, and checked on him occasionally. I ended up getting through the entire read and wasting an hour of his time (I like to think of it as his employers time, he'd be there anyway) before he gave up. I considered it a personal victory over the assholes that stranded me in Osborne Village for an hour. Soon after, I got a call from my dad, who was just about outside.

We grabbed my car from an impound lot, and parted ways. I met up with Keeley, Alaina, and their mother for dinner at Moxies, which was fantastic. They were such great company, I had missed my futsal game. My apologies go out to my team, but what a fantastic dinner.


* Into open space.
† Originally a joke, now requires a name change.
‡ Originally was slightly funny and horribly stupid, opted for philosophical and motivational.

We were surprised about you

I realize this is a bit late, but I've been a bit busy. My apologies.

Wednesday nights game with the White Eagles was (quickly summarized) a disaster averted. We started well, and I assisted a goal to pull back a point, putting us at 2-1. Soon after, just before half time, we began losing control, giving up stupid fouls and a 2-minute penalty (though most were probably dives, knowing that team) and my teammates kept yelling at eachother. We went down 4-1 at this point.

At halftime, I had to give a talk, and just tell everybody to shut their mouths and to stop taking it out on each other. This seemed to work, except for at one point. I assisted another and put one in, bringing the score to 3-4. I got yelled at from a teammate for not passing it on my goal, so I smoothed things over. The situation was that I had an opportunity for an open shot from the top of the box, so I beat a man, took the shot, and followed up with my left foot. There was apparently an open man to my left when I took the shot, but I did not see nor hear him. He gave me flak afterwards, but I apologized and all was well.

At the very end of the game, I had the opportunity for a disgustingly sick overhead kick that I had set myself up for, but some guy put his head down to head it away from me, so I got called for a high kick.

It'd have been something like that.

All in all, I was disappointed with a few of my team members, namely one who mentioned in the dressing room that all of our goals were flukes. I'm not such why people insist on considering our team bad, I know for a fact that we have what it takes to be better, but we just have a few things holding us back. Sunday we have a three hour practice, and as player-coach, I will be damned if I cannot do anything about the negative atmosphere. Seriously, we're not as bad as we think we are, in fact, two of our losses have been by one point. We can most definitely be better than we are at the moment.

I nutmeg'd a guy at one point, too, but I couldn't get around him because he fouled me. I also got meg'd, but that's cool. I should change my stance at times. In addition, I did one of my very favourite things - I sprinted up behind a guy with a breakaway and got my foot in just in time to block a shot.

Last night I played Brenden in squash, beating him 4-3. I am getting better. I've got to go play Tom though, so see you all soon.

We're the Gillette Mach 3

There were a couple of games to be had yesterday, The first was an exhibition team that various members of Team Gigantic had against a somewhat complacent team that claimed we only had a couple talents. We had 11 guys, making for very little playtime for some of us. Thankfully, I was on the midfield line of three, so I was fortunate to get a good amount of playtime compared to the rest of everybody else. Another helping factor was the fact that one of our players, Eric, hasn't played in a long time, and left for the washroom to throw up close to the end of the game, giving me an extra shift.

I scored one and should've had a few more, if not for some sloppy shooting. I also got headbutted in the skull at one point, doing a bit of juggling in the middle of the field. Course, the guy that did it was a skinhead with a captain's armband (In co-ed recreational soccer, no less), so you could tell he was kind of a flake. My goal was a breakaway that I neatly slotted into the corner. I noted that my team played the triangle very well, but there were a few points in time that we failed to get back on defense and were caught on 4-on-1s. All in all, however, a good game, even though, as usual, the opponents were idiots. The scoreline wasn't truly indicative of the run of play, though.

After the first game, Dan, Rachel, Matt, and I decided to have a game about thinking of the most disgusting things possible on the way to drop Rachel off. I get the feeling I won, but Matt's lasagna was pretty decent, too.

Something like Matt's Lasagna.

In my later game, my other co-ed team (The Beans/Coolbeans) played one of my pseudo-teams, the (lacklustre) Wannabees. We won 20-1. I scored bucketloads, including a nice juggle into a volley, which I set up an opposing member of the team to screen for me. It was all downright horrid, though. At one point, I was purposefully missing shots that were tap-ins just to try not to run it up too much on the other team. midway through the second half, I vouched to switch sides to give my own team some practice, and to help the other team. I don't think I went into a full sprint or broke a sweat until this point in time.

My team also had no substitutes. Then against, neither did theirs. One of the previous team's players stuck around to give them a hand after they realized that they couldn't pry me from my official team. The guy that stuck around is one of those loud-mouthed fellows who is his teams biggest critic. He's not really a great player either, in fact, his head cranes about as downwards as it can go when he dribbles. Weird fellow, and apparently, a leg which he hurt that game has "only been broken four times". I think that's a great indication to stop at any sign of pain, if you ask me.

I'll stop talking about how bad this game was. Course, it's always nice to be able to practice tricks and such.

Tonight I play with the White Eagles against a team that is statistically worse than us, but reportedly better. We'll just have to see how it all goes.

I thought that was a fur-lined jacket.

Busy day today. I woke up to the smell of cake and a birthday card, and my family had a minuscule birthday celebration. After that, there was a practice for White Eagles, which only 5 others showed up to. We worked on certain positions according to my idea of how we should play (namely having a target man and midfielders providing attacking runs), then one-timers, and then had a 3 on 3 game where we focused on triangles. Two hours of that was a decent work out, but nothing too strenuous. I don't know how to organize a team is less than half of it shows up to practice.

After the eagles practice, I had a game a couple hours later. I arrived late and missed warm-up, and got thrown right onto the starting line-up as striker. I was cold and played horribly, but shaped up after halftime. I ended up scoring the tying goal from a rebound and assisted the goal before that, making a 5-all draw from a 3-5 loss. Not bad, if I say so. I had a deflected ball crank me in the face at one point, but I toughed it out and we salvaged the draw.

As I reffed dodgeball, one of my pals, David, mentioned that two of the guys on one of the other teams were Romby Bryant and Arjei Franklin, who play for the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, the city's local (American) football team. David's a huge Bomber fan, so his friend (with a small dog that made him look like he was wearing a fur-lined coat) put me up to asking the guys if they could say hi. I did, and David was ecstatic to the point of shaking. Funny stuff, if you ask me. The footballers are nice guys, too.

I ended up playing another dodgeball game afterwards for a good work out with the team that likes to refer to me as Mittens. I'm still at a loss to why, but it's fine.

One good thing I've been doing lately - stretching a lot. I've also learned that dynamic stretching is more important before a match, and that static stretching actually decreases muscle strength, so it should be done after the game.

Also, I've found one of my best attributes is my positioning, a la David Trezeguet. That man's incredible, he's a horrible touch, but he just always seems to be in the right place. Sure he missed a crucial penalty in the World Cup, but if a man can't miss a penalty... And yes Derek, that is my opinion of him.

Also, my parents offered to buy me a pair of soccer shoes for my birthday, and I've no idea what to get. My Umbro S5s were great, but I've heard good things about Adidas Sambas. The following pair, though, look incredible. That could be because white and gold is one of my favourite colour schemes. Looking good is important too.

Adidas F30 Indoor.

My name is Hhhtrr (?), I come from Planet Danger. I can put my arm back on, you can't.

Christ, was I ever on the receiving end of a beating tonight. But first off, let's recap the day.

It's officially winter now in Winnipeg, with snow teeming up trees and mountains of snow placed hastily in the corners of parking lots. It seemed to happen overnight, Wednesday, there was not a flake in the sky. I decided to go to school without a jacket today, and boy, that could've been better thought out. By the time Tom beat me badly in Squash today (I petered out at the end, but did make a couple really great comebacks), flurries were the order of the day, and slow drivers were beginning to escape from work. Course, it was pretty icy, but the way time moves as fast as it does in one of Winnipeg's winters, things were fine by the time I drove home from my game. I'd bet all of those people on the perimeter were cursing at me as I passed them doing the speed limit.

The game was a rough one, the team had a bit of skill, but we're no pushovers. I was, in a sense. I had an awkward volley then was a reasonably good shot as one of my shots, and a header from a long set play that missed the top corner of the net by a foot. Anah deserves a mention from that, she really put a spectacular ball in for me. I was at fault for two of the goals in the 2-3 loss, one was a long shot that I should've blocked, and the other was a tackle to pick up a guy that had got by Resa that ended up just putting the ball right back in his path.

I found out that I love being on the end of free kicks, as well. This is my new favourite thing.

People were after me today, though. Must've been the tank top I decided to don as my jersey. My actual jersey was pretty smelly from having to wear a pinny over it last week, so I vouched to keep it in the wash.

At any rate, some guy earned a yellow by sweeping my legs out from underneath me, bruising my hip pretty nicely in the process. It's given me a lovely limp, really. I imagine the whole ordeal looked like this:



Somewhat, at least.

The second 'occurence', if you could call it that, 'occured' when I was running to get a ball from between two of their players. I got the ball good and fine, but then I got tripped up. That's cool, whatever. It happens. As I begin to get up, I feel a grab around my chest, then a push from behind. Some midget gets up, yells at me, and our referee shows him red. Okay. I was pretty pissed, I mean, why would you do that? His teammates gave me some lip, so I told him that it wasn't nice to get under his skin.

It should be worth noting that the same person earlier was giving Adrian and I trouble when we set up a wall. The meanie kept pushing.

I went to the bench and subbed off for Jay, and mentioned to my team that the guy was being a baby. Jay turned around, pointed at me, and told me to shut up, which I felt was uncalled for, for a few reasons:

1) Team unity - Stay by your team and teammates' side at all times. We're a unit, not my first ex-girlfriend.

2) I was on the business end of two carded offenses in the game - Of course I'm going to be disturbed. If it were a few others on our team, let's face it, a fist fight would have been a possibility.

3) I didn't do anything wrong - Sure, I could've not spoke back, but this made me pretty angry. Don't be an asshole to me while I'm doing the only thing that keeps me sane.

4) I only called him a baby.

After the game, I apologized to Jay. I'm not sure if I was seeking a mutual apology, or I felt bad for some reason, but at any rate, he didn't really say anything. Suits himself, I suppose. Might have something to be correlated with that when I asked people to point fingers at me if I had done anything, Jay was the only one that pointed. Oddly enough, to others, it looked like I had been suplexed and headbutted.

Resa, the team's manager, delivered a bit of a speech at the end of the game about playing rough, and this concerned me. I hadn't been rough at all, but I get paranoid about these things. I spoke to her though, and I wasn't the problem. It would see that I was just the target of other people's problems.

It should be worth noting that Derek pulled his usual hot-headed stuff about jumping the boards to get in a fight. Normally I'm pretty critical about fighting, especially on the soccer field, but for once, I understand. It's a comradery thing, really, and I appreciate it. I appreciate more that he had the restraint to not come on and start laying people out (though I'd have paid to see it), even though it wasn't so much a restraint issue as much as having a petite and innocent blonde girl (Sarah) in his way. I now see where he is coming from. Regardless, once the fists start getting thrown around, so do the assault charges. For the love of it, Derek, keep that in mind. I'm going to give you a codephrase for whenever you get angry like that, from one of my favorite childhood shows. Fast forward to 1:45 or so.

"Punisher, control!"

I've a theory on who the punisher actually was. If anybody remembers the black-haired guy who hosted YTV with Snit (that weird goopy television screen), I have a strong inclination it was him. My reasoning behind that is his strange voice, fact that he appeared on the same children's network, and, his stature, and penchant for acting strange. Of course, it could've been anybody, nobody ever knew or found out. Oddly enough, checking on the wikipedia page, the actors who did play the Punisher never had their identities revealed. It should be worth noting that I had a severe bout of nostalgia when watching that, and even if you did watch just that, you should re-watch the entire thing, if you recall the show.

After the game, the ref and the foul dwarf approached me, and we chatted about it. I told him that me knocking him over (or whatever happened) was an accident, and shook his hand. Fabio, the ref, called me a good guy, and for some strange reason, I asked Fabio, for some unknown and unprovoked reason, if the suspension could be vouched against. Fabio complied. Perhaps it was because I've had a suspension freebie before, with my mens team (as far back as July). Maybe it's because I figured the suspension would do my own team no favors. Or maybe it's because I'm a moron.

On the drive home, Rachel told me she sees me as a sort of coaching figure on the team. This was pretty cool. I like being a coaching figure.

My Favourite Pasta Noodle is Rotini

Rotini.

There you have it, folks. My recipe of the year is to cook these nice and soft, then grate some marble cheese over them, then use the microwave to melt the cheese. It's good, if it were to go on Greg's Feedbag, it'd be an easy 4, the only downside being the greasiness and lack of flavor-dynamism™ of it all. In fact, it will go on my feedbag. There. It is an excellent two-ingredient dish, though, and its simplicity should not be misunderstood.

If I were to put something bad on my feedbag, it'd have to be the Highlander's Grillhouse nachos. Man, those belong in the negatives. Not layered, very little given, very expensive, very greasy. Good enough though? 1.5 out of five. Maybe not. Even though they call it a grillhouse, it's just a restaurant with a view of the ice rinks and indoor soccer field, which actually makes it fairly decent.

At any rate, tonight's game against Red Dogs FC went well. We won 6-2, and I scored twice and assisted once. As well, I set up another scoring play. I went into the dressing room claiming that we had statistics on our side (see: previous post), so Mike appointed me coach for the game. I made the lineups and did some halftime changing, and offered a place for them to practice - turns out now I'm going to be the coach, unofficially. I've got some drills planned, and strategies worked out. This should be a good time.

My first goal was the typical 'wait in the box for that scrum of people to have a ball pop out of them, then shoot'. Easy stuff, just complete the triangle and you're set. My second was a breakaway caused by challenging a guy with a bad first touch. The ball got stuck between my legs, so I hopped once to get by him, then unleashed a shot through the goalkeepers' legs. My assist involved beating three people down the flank, then just squaring it for a smart teammate that came in for the tap in after the goalie somewhat committed.

I was told after the game that I'm one of the better finishers on the team, and that I shouldn't pass it so much. Go figure.

You know what's a shame? Forgetting something important that you discovered about yourself a few hours ago. I was in my car, and it hit me like a brick wall. It was either about my love life, or more likely, about soccer. Ahh well. Maybe one day it'll come back. I need a pad of paper.

Harry Redknapp is the John Madden of the EPL

Both Harry Redknapp and John Madden respectively, in their semi-haydays.

Notice a similarity? Maybe it's the constantly spaced-out looked, or maybe it's the fact that they both explain the blatantly obvious (thank you, Stephen).

Last night I was reffing. I ended up playing two games and getting paid for four hours, so it's a pretty good deal. I played with the Wannabees again, and this time I had the gall to tell their goalie, who smelled pretty bad, to wash his brown, smelly, crusty sweat rag. He kept that thing on his net, so he sort of scared me off when I was trying to defend. For some reason, when I was on the bench for their team, he kept looking at me after he'd try a move (and routinely fail). I could be a little creeped out by this, but I'll choose to just treat it like anything else.

Between him, a guy wearing what could be considered bowling shoes, a girl with "no left foot" which really turned out to be no (figurative) foot at all, and another guy, and myself, we lost the game 6-2. I scored one with the usual end-to-end run, and assisted the other. I'd really hate to talk negatively about people, but for the sake of conversation, this was just one motley crew that was better suited for beer-drinking than soccer. Then again, beer drinking is extremely well suited for everybody, but only in moderation. And if you're older than eighteen.

In the other game I had, with Cool Beans, there were 6 of us, two of them girls. They were playing all game, and thankfully they were really good. One girl, Hannah, had a particularly good game. The strangest thing happened between us, I went to give her a high five, and we ended up holding hands for a second. Kinda weird, kinda awkward, very hilarious. She ended up scoring the goal that tied it for us at 2-2 with an incredible volley.

Tonight I'll be with the White Eagles. Should be an interesting one, by all accounts, as it always is. I think we've got an advantage going into this one, against a team called Red Dogs FC. I swear I've played a co-ed version of them before, and I could also swear that we've beaten them. However, a little-known fact about me is that I'm really into statistics, and today's are looking good. Two games into the season you can't look too deep into the standings, but you can look at the results:

White Eagles FC 0 - 6 Equal Opps
Equal Opps 8 - 0 E+A United
E+A United 11 - 3 Red Dogs FC

Results show that E+A United are horrible compared to Equal Opps, while White Eagles FC registers as only a "quite bad". From this, we can deduce that we are only marginally better than E+A United, who are hideously better than Red Dogs FC. According to my logic, that makes White Eagles FC astronomically better than Red Dogs FC. Let's hope that this is the truth.

The number one thing on my mind is hoping that guy washes his rag for next week. And that essay.

Tune in next time to figure out which type of pasta noodle is the best.

Sorry Layton, Jacked your shoes.

Jack Layton, who Murray masqueraded as for Halloween.

I played with Fury last night, it was intense - We only have 5 people. We had no subs, which was fantastic, and we ripped the other team apart. I had 6 goals and something like 3 or 4 assists, and we won 14-4. It was incredible. I don't even remember half of my goals, but Christ, we really beat these guys. I even began pulling out a shitload of tricks at one point, a couple of which were nutmegs off a wall. I tried to smack a pass that was over my head with my right calf, but it didn't quite go where I wanted it to.

Jahan (the team's senile captain) has been teaching me a lot though, like the importance of blocking shots, and why I should learn to keep my head up, and to shoot with the instep much more. Another guy on the team, Mohamed, has told me that the most important thing about soccer is to just forget about the bad stuff. Ironically enough, a week before, he had said that the most important thing was something else (Fawzi pointed that one out). Perhaps he forgot.

So these three guys I'm with, Jahan, Fawzi, and Mohamed, are all a good bit older than me, but are teaching me more about the game than I could imagine, and that's probably part of the reason of why we were able to score 14 goals with no subsitutes. I forgot to mention to Jahan about the premier team, that'll be next week. For this week, I'll be working on keeping my eye off the ball, as well as that well-overdue essay for Sport Psychology.